Mission- Interrupted
by Shiba-Studios
Summary: What if Snake and Meryl met up in the battlefield after the Tanker Incident, when he was presumed dead. With rumors of a new Metal Gear project underway, both Snake and Meryl, unaware to each other, are sent in to investigate the possible new threat.
1. Meryl Silverburgh

Quick Author's Note: I have not written fan fiction in many years, about ten, to be exact. But I've had this story in my head for a few months and I feel the need to write it down. Who knows, maybe some of you, wonderful readers, may actually enjoy it. I've tried and dissected the time line to make sure that this story fits into the original canon. I also went out of my way to keep all the characters IC. If you have questions about some of the military terminology, just ask me and I will gladly explain what they mean.

I also wanted to write this from Meryl's point of view. The games are told from Snake's and I don't think that Meryl really gets enough kudos. I am also going on the assumption that Snake left Meryl, not the other way around. Yes, I know in MGS 2: Substance the Snake Tales say that Meryl walked out on Snake, but in MGS 4 it's implied that Snake left first. I am going with what MGS 4. The only reason Snake Tales exists is because fans wouldn't stop complaining about Raiden in MGS 2.

I decided in a M rating because there is a detailed sex scene that I have planned out. It won't happen until later chapters, and I will note the specific chapter. This chapter also has a steamy scene in it, but it's more T rated. There will also be graphic violence, language, and hints of rape. Don't like, don't read. And as of yet, Meryl does not know that Campbell is her father.

_Italics indicate a flashback_

Story Summary: What if Snake and Meryl met up in the battlefield after the Tanker Incident, when he was presumed dead. With rumors of a new Metal Gear project underway, both Snake and Meryl, unaware to each other, are sent in to investigate the possible new threat.

Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING! Everything Metal Gear Solid is property of Hideo Kojima and Konami.

Prologe

Jab. Uppercut. Hook. Kick. Jab. Uppercut. Hook. Kick.

Meryl repeated the same patter of punches over and over, the thick droplets of sweat pouring from her brow onto her gloved hands. The large vinyl punching bag continued to take her abuse steadily for the next five minutes or so, before taking a moment to catch her breath. The air was thick with the pungent oder of sweat and salt; Meryl would often seek solace in the gym at Fort Myer. More often then not, she would be the only female at the punching bags. The red headed soldier would often attract stares and sideways glances from her male counterparts, but Meryl paid them no heed. She enjoyed the time alone with her thoughts, her memories, and anger.

Looking up at the digital clock, she took note of the time; 0030 it blared in bright neon red lights. She'd been fighting imaginary foes for the past three hours. Taking a moment to survey the gym, she realized it was deserted. All of the soldiers had retired to their barracks for the evening. It was past midnight, after all. Catching a glimpse of herself in the a mirror, red faced and soaked in sweat, she decided to call it a night and walked off towards the showers.

At Fort Myer, female facilities were far and few between, however the gym did have a fairly sizable ladies locker room, and it was sparsely used. Claiming the first shower stall, Meryl quietly turned the hot water on, forcing the temperature as hot as possible. An old habit from her time in Twin Lakes, Alaska. The hot water a welcome relief from the bitter Alaskan cold. Steam quickly filled the locker room and Meryl began to slip out of her soiled gym sweats. Stepping into the shower, the searing hot water flushed her skin bright pink and she closed her eyes, letting her mind to ponder the past few months.

She had been at Fort Myer for approximately six months. It was strange being back in the Washington D.C. metropolitan after her months in the Alaskan wilderness. But after Snake disappeared, she had no where else to go. Her uncle resided in Arlington, Virginia, enjoying his retirement. With Campbell's connections, her record at Shadow Moses had been expunged, and she was allowed to return to active duty in her old Army unit. Colonel Campbell was merciful and did not ask why she has returned from Alaska alone. Meryl was grateful for her discretion. The last thing she needed was questions to which she has no answer. Or rather, no answer that she was willing to say aloud.

She just wanted to block the whole affair from her brain, Solid Snake, Shadow Moses, all of it.

_"You must not say anything of Shadow Moses. As far as anyone knows, you were deployed to Southern Africa during your time in Alaska. Stick to that story," her uncle implored her. "Shadow Moses was a cover story for your mission in Africa. You can make up the details, if you wish, but you must stick to that story. That's the White House's official statement and we mustn't deviate from that." Campbell rummaged around his desk for a moment, before pulling out a manila envelope, extending it to her. "Here is an official copy of your orders to Fort Myer."_

_Meryl nodded in understanding, taking the envelope. "When can I be back in the field?" she asked. She wanted nothing more then to utterly lose herself in a mission, working in the field, carrying out her orders like a true soldier. When left to it's own devices, her mind would often reflect on this six months in Alaska. Six amazing months with a man she loved. 'No,' she thought to herself. 'He left. Forget about him.' Her hero, her mentor…and her lover. It was for the best if she just let those memories of Alaska fade into the abyss. _

_Colonel Campbell shook his head defeated. "Unfortunately our higher ups don't want you involved in any exercises, real or training, until you've been properly evaluated. You never sought treatment for your Post Tramautic-," he began but was abruptly cut off._

_"Nothing happened. I'm fine," Meryl spat viciously. Her uncle had been relentlessly pushing her to talk to a therapist after Shadow Moses. The last thing she needed was a quack in a beige chair taking notes on how she had been imprisoned shot, tortured and…worse. She didn't need a therapist, or anyone else for that matter. The only one she had opened up to was Snake, and not even he knew everything. She was fine. _

_"Well either way, until you are physically and mentally evaluated and deemed fit, you are not allowed to return to the field. That's not just from me, it's orders from the unit commander. Mei Ling is also under the same scrutiny. You are being watched and monitored. And until the Department of Defense is satisfied you will have to deal with it. You are lucky. Mei Ling has been demoted to a secretary for naval officer and was questioned extensively by NCIS, the NSA, and DoD. You were lucky enough to disappear for a while and have now been grated a blank slate. You have been assigned to the electronics unit on post. Your report no later then date is in a week, giving you time to find an apartment off post. Any questions?" Campbell said bluntly. He had pulled every string and contact he had made in his military career to have his daughter's record purged of her involvement at Shadow Moses. Meryl was stubborn, he knew, but he at least wanted to give her a second chance. Being a soldier was her dream, and he didn't want those bastards at the Pentagon to rob it from her. He sighed heavily and eyed his daughter. Tall, lean and stubborn as an ass, she softened her demeanor at his explanation._

_"Thank you, uncle," she said softly, smiling fondly at her uncle._

Her first six months at Myer dragged at a snail's pace. She was made aware in no uncertain terms that, for the time being, she was chained to a desk, answering phones, and filing paperwork. Before Shadow Moses, her job was a specialist in electronics, and she had at least expected to resume her normal responsibilities. But instead, her unit commander had essentially chained her to a desk. The work was boring and monotonous. Nine hours a day, five days a week, she was chained to "answer phones and look pretty," as her Commander instructed her. It took every once of restraint and self control not to punch the misogynistic old man in the face with all her might, but Meryl kept a low profile. Every free moment she had was spent working out and training, counting down until she was no longer on lockdown.

With such a dull and boring job, Meryl couldn't help as her mind would drift back to her time in Alaska. Her time with him. Solid Snake. The Solid Snake…no…her David. Their time together had been short, sweet, and wonderful. Days were filled with mushing, training, and laughter, while their nights were sleepless and passionate. Snake had not been the first man she'd been intimate with, but he was definitely the most skilled.

_The chilly Alaskan air was whirling outside, but Meryl was nice and warm curled up under a thick goose down blanket with Solid Snake next to her. A gentle orange glow radiated from the stone fireplace that was the sole source of warmth in Snake's tiny cabin. She pulled the thick blanket up to her chin, taking a moment to drink in the sight of the man next to her. _

_He was sleeping at the moment; the chiseled features of his visage were at ease in his slumber. God, he looked ten years younger, then the war torn hero she'd seen at Shadow Moses. Snake's hair was frizzled from their latest frenzy of love making, and his chest slowly rose with the rhythm of his breath. Sleepy and restless at the same time, Meryl didn't quite know what to make of herself, and she rolled out of bed to add another log to the fire. Still nude, she shamelessly slid from the sheets and tended to the fire. The renewed warmth was welcoming, but not as inviting as the handsome man sleeping feet from her._

_Looking back, Snake really was the most attractive man she'd ever seen. Years of training, combat, and war had sculpted his features with a certain roughness that she found irresistible. His hands, calloused and worn, had a tender touch to them when he ran them over her body, surprisingly so. Solid Snake was as experienced in the bedroom as he was in combat, knowing exactly how and where to touch her. _

_"What are you doing?" a raspy voice said, snapping Meryl out of her thoughts._

_Meryl jumped, and flushed pink. "I was just thinking, nothing wrong with that."_

_Snake smirked at her, knowing full well what was on her mind. "It's late, get back to bed."_

_Smiling Meryl teased, "You can't tell me what to do." _

_"Oh really?" he smiled. Hopping out of bed, naked in the glow of the fire, he walked over to Meryl and in a flash, pinned her down in the wooden floor of his cabin. Her face reddened so much that it matched the hue of her hair. She made no effort to escape his grip, nor could she even if she wanted it. Snake leaned down, teasing her for a moment, kissing and nibbling at her lower up. _

The water in the shower had long since grown cold when Meryl snapped out of her daydream. Alarmed, she quickly toweled off, threw on a set of clean clothes, and set out for her apartment. She avoided thinking about Snake. She found it an easier coping mechanism then wondering why. Why did he leave? It maybe wasn't the most mature way of handling the situation, but avoidance worked just fine for her.

She lived in a small flat just 5 minutes away from post. It was a modest one-bedroom apartment, but more then adequate for a single woman. Not even bothering to go to her bed, Meryl curled up on her couch, drew a plush micro-blanket across her body and within minutes fell asleep.

The next morning came quickly as morning light managed to creep through her curtains. Groaning, Meryl threw her blanket across her face. It was a Sunday morning, a non-duty day, and she was determined to catch as much sleep as possible. Rarely did she go a full evening without recurrent flashbacks. During sleep, her thoughts would bring memories of Shadow Moses, a dark cell, and a man with sandy brown hair with a long duster. It was classic Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, she knew, but kept repressed in a lonely corner of her brain. Officially Shadow Moses never happened, so neither did her flashbacks.

A loud sharp knock to her apartment door forced Meryl out of her slumber. "Too early," she mumbled. "GO AWAY," she shouted across the room. Checking her watch, it was six thirty in the morning. Who on Earth would be at her door this early in the morning? Rolling over, she shoved a pillow over her ears in an attempt to block out the noise.

"Meryl, it's me. I need to talk to you!" a disgruntled Colonel Campbell yelled through the door.

Grumpily, Meryl stood up and unlatched her door. Not caring she wore only a pair of sweatpants and a black tee-shirt, she invited her uncle into the apartment. His complexion was pale and ashen. Roy Campbell appeared to have aged twenty years over night, with large bags hanging beneath his eyes. Alarmed at his appearance, Meryl reached out to her uncle "Are you alright?"

"Yes. Perchance, do you have coffee?" Campbell asked in a poor attempt to seem calm and collected Meryl motioned over to the small circular dining table she owned. To anyone else the act would have worked, but she knew her uncle better then anyone. As Roy took his seat, Meryl went about the kitchen to her small coffee maker. Within a few minutes, the odor of fresh-brewed coffee filled the room. "It's about Snake…" Campbell trailed off. Faltering for a moment, she tried to maintain a nonchalant demeanor as she reached for a pair of mugs.

"What about him? He disappeared six months ago."

"I wanted you to hear it from me, and not on the news," the Colonel said. Meryl stood still in her tracks, her hands laden with full mugs of coffee, suddenly weighed more then she could handle. Not a trace had been found of Snake since he disappeared in Twin Lakes.

"Hear what?" Meryl demanded.

"Last night, in the Hudson River, a tanker known as the _Discovery_ was sunk in a terrorist attack, or so the news stations claim. I do not know the exact details, but official reports say Solid Snake is responsible for this terrorist attack," Campbell relayed. His voice was slow and controlled, and eyes fixed firmly on Meryl's. He did not know the details of her and Snake's relationship, save for the fact that they loved each other.

It took a moment for Meryl to regain her composer. Snake was a terrorist? That didn't make sense. What was going on? Was he still alive? Her mind was firing a thousand questions at once. "What happened to him?" she managed to blurt out. A small clamor came from her hands as they shook the mugs, spilling searing hot coffee on her bare hands. Meryl didn't notice, but was fixated in her uncle. "What happened to him," she said again, more forcefully.

"A casualty crew found a body. A DNA analysis is currently being run, but the preliminary results…" his sentence was cut off as a loud CLANG rang sharply in the room, the sound of two coffee mugs falling onto the tile floor.

Thank you to everyone who actually read this. It's a slow prologue, but it kind of sets the tone for everything that's going to come. And there's a LOT to come. :-)

Keep in mind that Snake was officially dead until the Big Shell Incident, so for about two years. It wouldn't make sense for everyone to know he was really alive. Even Ocelot didn't know he was alive.

If you like, please review. More reviews = more chapters faster.


	2. Solid Snake

**Author's Note: Thank you to those of you who read and reviewed the prologue. I am really surprised by how many people like this story. I am honored and very happy. You guys (and gals) keep me motivated. I did a lot of research from the different sources of cannon (the games, graphic novel, and official companion novel) to fill in the missing details between Snake and Meryl's relationship. This chapter is set a couple of weeks after the first one. **

**Disclaimer: Metal Gear Solid is property of Hideo Kojima and Konami. **

_Italics indicate a flashback. _

The combination of cigarette smoke and the sweltering smog that filled air was a noxious concoction that would send even the most hardened smoker vomiting. But Solid Snake enjoyed the lingering odor as he inhaled deeply, taking the nicotine rich air deep into his lungs. At the moment, Otacon was procuring supplies in the hustle and bustle of downtown Manhattan. Snake, determined to keep a low profile, had taken up residence in Otacon's tiny flat. He rarely left the apartment, only to obtain more cigarettes, an errand that Otacon refused to run. "You're killing yourself," the scientist would lecture with a stern disapproving scowl.

Snake rarely had the opportunity to bask in his cloud of smoke, cancerous or no, so when Otacon announced that morning that he would be gone for the day to replenish their supply of groceries, and upgrade the RAM in his desktop, Snake took full advantage of the vacant apartment.

After leaving Alaska, he hadn't exactly intended to run to New York City, but Otacon was his only remaining ally worthy of any degree of trust. Sure, Campbell would always support his old comrade, but with Campbell came Meryl, and all the questions. One quick codec call was all it took, and Snake found himself on the next flight from Anchorage to JFK Airport. Of course, Otacon had just as many questions, but he also had the courtesy of keeping them contained. Snake hated questions, especially in regards to his personal life.

The Tanker Incident had proven to be nothing but a giant fiasco, but it did serve one advantage. Officially he was dead, thanks entirely to Otacon's genius in planting Liquid's body in the wreckage. The government believed him dead, and that suited Snake just fine. He had more than his fair share of the government's interference. Scowling his mind lingered briefly on the FOXDIE coursing through his veins and the scientist who administered it. Despite being officially dead, Philanthropy was alive and running, however slow at the moment. Since the _Discovery_ sank, Snake was keeping a low profile. In New York City, procuring a new identity was as easy as buying a carton of cigarettes. A few hours and a few dollars in the right hands and he was Iroquios Pliskin. Otacon had chosen the name. It was a bit too similar to his code name, but was definitely a far cry from both David and Solid Snake.

Smoke rose from the tip of a burning Moslem in to the air. He had been a Lucky Strike man, but after Shadow Moses, Snake had taken a liking to Moslems. Not normally his style, but their bitter taste brought an unexpected relief to the former soldier. Any relief, whether it be carcinogenic or alcohol, was a welcome gift from his memories.

_It was a crisp April evening at Twin Lakes, the air was chilly, but lacked the icy bite of a typical Alaskan night. As usual, Snake was awake, pacing to and fro in the spacious bedroom of his cabin. Sleep had never come easy for him; most nights were spent pouring over old books, training at midnight, or seeking comfort from his dogs. This night was particularly difficult. Since Meryl found herself at home in his cabin, Snake's sleepless nights were far and few between, but there was always the occasion where insomnia reigned supreme. Taking a seat in front of the fireplace, he basked in the few wisps of warmth that emitted from the dying embers. _

_Never in a million years did he expect to be sharing his home with a young woman, especially one more than ten years his junior. But at the same time, he had sworn off relationships of any type. All that brought was heart ache, useless emotions, and weakness for enemies to exploit. Sure, Snake had more than his fair share of women, one night stands, spring flings, and the occasional attempt at a relationship, but nothing worked, bringing more annoyance then fulfillment. But Meryl Silverburgh…she was a world away from any other woman he had known. Green yes, but steadfast, brave to the point of reckless, determined, with a stubborn streak to rival his own. Maybe that was why he had been drawn to her from the moment they met. Although Snake did admit, her good looks didn't hurt either. _

_Falling in love on the battlefield…a fool's folly. _'Then I guess that makes me a fool,' _he pondered. Never being one to wear his heart on his sleeve, Snake assured Meryl of his feelings in the few ways he knew how, the occasional gentle word, playful antagonizing, and an insatiable lust that never seem satisfied. He knew that would not state the needs of a normal woman, Holly proved that. She wanted his emotions on a silver platter, bringing about the downfall of their affair. But Meryl, she seemed content, happy even, in his small world of sled dogs and snow. _

_Their days were simple, but happy, an emotion that Solid Snake had not allowed himself since Zanzibar. Both foreign and fulfilling at the same time, Snake looked forward to each day with sincerity and optimism. Meryl brought out the good in him that lingered in his cold killer's heart. Gazing back at the bed, he drank in the sight of the small woman huddled beneath his woolen sheets. Her red hair reflected the flickering light of the fireplace, casting an orange glow on her face. She, like him, slept nude, but at the moment, she was so tightly cocooned in his blankets not a trace of skin was bared. For now, she seemed to be deep in a dreamless slumber. _

_Although Snake knew that Meryl wouldn't admit it, the after effects of Shadow Moses were becoming steadily more apparent each night. The light of day was a mask for her inner-demons, keeping them at bay while playing with his huskies, making fun of his atrocious cooking, or their seemingly endless sessions of sparring that quickly ignited into something far more carnal. It was slow at first, the occasional twitch in her sleep, startling easy, and jumping at loud noises. Snake knew as well as any seasoned veteran that she was suffering the effects of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, however, he respected her quietly ignore them. Meryl would have ardently denied them, creating tension in their happy relationship. He was also well aware of his own issues, always sleeping with a loaded pistol by the bed and chronic insomnia; she dealt with them with grace, and never threw them in his face. _

_As the months progressed, so did her nightmares. They started very slowly, but each evening progressed further and further. Unbeknownst to Meryl, she talked in her sleep. In fact, she was quite vocal, reliving her torture over and over each night. Very slowly, Snake was beginning to piece together the puzzle of what happened during her confinement on Shadow Moses. Meryl was very careful to not reveal what happened to her, her demeanor becoming defense and almost cold each instance Snake attempted to ask her what happened. '_Nothing_', she'd say, and '_I already told you. They tortured me_,' before hastily changing the subject. He was no fool, nor did he buy her answers. For months he'd been pouring over her words, again and again, trying to decipher the few hints she inadvertently dropped. But it wasn't until her nightmares that he learned the disturbing details. _

_So far, Snake learned that Sniper Wolf was the first ordeal she had faced. While Ocelot was busy with his "interrogation", Meryl had been confined to a small cell with a television monitor broadcasting his electrocution. In the middle of the room was a metal chair to which she had been cuffed. Sniper Wolf stood behind her, pulling tightly on her hair, forcing her gaze up to the television. She'd always cry, _'I'm sorry,' _or _'all my fault.' _Wolf taunted her relentlessly, before finally leaving her in the dark room in tears. Snake also realized that he had not been the only one to whom Ocelot paid a visit. The rounds from Sniper Wolf's rifle were still firmly embedded into her flesh, and Revolver Ocelot took it upon himself to remove them with nothing but a tactical bayonet. During those dreams, Meryl would often clench the sheets, curling up into a tight ball, her entire body shaking violently. _

_Each time he'd wake to her crying or shaking, Snake would simply hold her, stroking her mop of thick red curls until Meryl would either wake, or the nightmare would cease. In the pit of his gut, anger and rage would build up. Anger at everyone, at everything, and most of all himself. If he had not shown interest in her, allowed his emotions to overrule his soldier's intuition, Meryl would have escaped Shadow Moses a little worse for the wear, but torture free. Liquid and Ocelot wouldn't of had a reason to use her, torture her, using a young woman as bait. Often Snake wondered what else Meryl had endured. In REX's hanger, she had alluded to an act worse than torture. Over the past six months, his brain had agonized over every gruesome possibility, but Meryl never alluded to the event again, even in her sleep. _

_Realizing he had zoned out, Snake abandoned his seat by the fire place, resuming his pacing back and forth. Realizing he had a stash of cigarettes hidden in his sock drawer, he hastily retrieved a Moslem and a lighter from within a pair of thick socks. He normally reserved his smoking for outside since Meryl had moved in, but he needed the quick fix of a nicotine high. _'Maybe that will help me to sleep.'

_He was such a fool. He loved Meryl, and although he hated admitting it, it was the cold truth staring him in the face. Solid Snake cracked the small window in his bedroom just a hair, enough for the trail of smoke to escape the room. A few dazed minutes later, Snake observed as Meryl began to toss here and there on the bed. Her brow was clenched down and she was beginning to whimper and moan, softly but steadily getting louder. Snake grimaced; she was dreaming again, and this was how her nightmares always began. He'd witnessed dozens of them, each tore a new hole in his gut. He was supposed to protect her, and how he had to watch her relive the terror every night. What good was being a solider if he couldn't protect the ones he cared about?! Extinguishing his cigarette, and flicking it into the woods outside his window, he slowly walked over to Meryl and very gently began caressing her cheek. Upon a closer inspection, he realized that she was soaked in a cold sweat and trembling from head to toe. "It's only a dream," he whispered to her, his voice barely audible._

_Meryl's chest started to heave up and down as she hyperventilated, a panicked expression flashed across her face. "No...please, no…" she muttered in a small voice, defeated and forlorn. Snake began to run his hands through her hair; that usually would be enough to jolt her into the living world. However it wasn't working, as Meryl continued to heave. "I don't have the card key. Please, don't," she continued to plead. _

_This was a new flashback, Snake realized. He knew every scene that she was forced to relive, every painstaking detail of everything she endured. But this was new. He had never seen her break out into a cold sweat, nor had he heard her beg. Meryl was not that type of woman. Her stubborn pride refused the mere notion of begging. Every flashback she would scream and swear up a storm, cursing her captors with every breath she took. Never before had Snake heard her so devoid of fire. _

_Worse…his mind wandered. _

_Was this what she was reliving? He listened intently at Meryl's words, while cupping her petite frame against his chest. A small trail of tears began to form at the corners of her eyes, which were firmly shut. Beneath them, he could make out the faint movement of her eyes beneath her lids, darting across the room. "You're not Snake. Get away from me," she murmured._

_Even as a war hardened veteran, it was impossible to prevent the waves of nausea that rose in his throat. Liquid. Snake was well aware that Liquid was responsible for a large part of Meryl's torture. The words his twin cackled at him inside REX's hanger echoed inside Snake's head. "_Poor girl, kept calling out your name. Stupid woman. Falling in love with a man who doesn't even have a name,". _Things were starting to make sense, and although what he long suspected what Meryl endured, watching her relive the ordeal months after was a giant slap in the face. _

"_Get off me! Someone please, help me." _

_Snake drew her closer into him, enveloping her body in his, as if to shield her from the world. _

"_Snake, please, help me…"_

BAM!

Otacon slammed the door of his apartment closed with a loud bringing Snake back into the present. The middle-aged scientist was laden with white plastic bags dangling from his arms, a stern look plastered across his face. "Snake, put that out! I want you stinking up this apartment," Otacon lectured.

Mumbling, Snake tossed the remaining half of his Moslem out the window. He grabbed the bags from Otacon's left arm, emptying their contents onto the countertop. It was the standard fare, eggs, ramen, cereal, the typical food a man with no prowess in the kitchen. Bland, but well enough to eat. "Did you find what you needed," Snake inquired.

"You mean the parts for my computer? Yeah. It took a while, not many places carry the correct RAM needed for Macintosh machines," the scientist replied. "Actually, while I was out, I received a call from an old friend of mine."

Snake perked up, listening intently. Their tip off about the _Discovery _was due primarily to some of Otacon's old comrades in the scientific community. "Anything of note?" Usually the leads were nothing but dead ends and scrapped government projects, but occasionally a reliable source would surface with information on the newest incarnation of Metal Gear.

"Actually, yeah. An old colleague. We worked together before I was transferred to Shadow Moses. He was recruited by an American scientist to work on a covert project in Nepal."

"Nepal? That's a strange place for the U.S. to be working."

"In the Annapurna region, the middle of the Himalayans. According to my friend. He mentioned work on a state of the art bipedal weapon, capable of deploying nuclear weapons…" Otacon trailed off.

Solid Snake nodded, in understanding. The story of his life. "Metal Gear…" he muttered.


	3. Nepal

**Author's Note: I cannot believe the amount of response I am getting because of this story. Thank you so much, wonderful readers. It really does keep me motivating to write more and more. After going back and re-reading my first two chapters, there are a number of grammatical errors that I plan on rectifying. In any case, here's chapter 2, I hope you all enjoy it! I use a lot of military lingo, terminology and acronyms in this chapter. If you need to know what they mean, just simply ask.**

Italics indicate a time jump

Disclaimer: Metal Gear Solid is property of Hideo Kojima and Konoami. This story was created solely for personal enjoyment and no profits are being made.

IXIXIXIXIXIX

…_2 months later…_

"Nepal?" Meryl asked, shaking her head. She'd heard of some strange locations for black ops bases, but Nepal was a new one. However, the similarities to Shadow Moses were striking. A virtually unknown facility located in a rugged, scarcely inhabited, mountainous region did logically serve as a black ops base.

"Yes. An unknown organization has taken root in the Himalayas, Annapurna to be exact. Current intelligence claims that they are being funded by an unknown massive black market organization. Our reports indicate that they are developing a new brand of nuclear weapons. Weapons that can be fired from a bi-pedal tank ," relayed Roy Campbell. Meryl's uncle, though still officially retired, still dabbled here and there in the Army community. Meryl couldn't help but notice that her uncle's office was in a state of disarray, something most unusual for the tedious and meticulous Colonel Campbell.

"A new Metal Gear…" Meryl trailed off. So that explained why she had been pulled from her post on active duty with virtually no advanced warning. "But why am I here? Wouldn't the Army send in a special ops team to deal with this?" A million questions were firing in her brain simultaneously.

"With your prior…experience…for want of a better term, at Shadow Moses, the Secretary of Defense wants someone with prior involvement in this type of mission," Campbell's expression darkened. To the untrained eye, the Colonel's expression remained solemn and profession, but Meryl could read her uncle like an open book. He did not support this mission, nor her involvement. In all earnest, the prospect of another Shadow Moses was the last endeavor she wanted to partake in, but orders were orders. A steadfast soldier never question their orders. Roy Campbell's fists were tightly clenched, shaking slightly on his solid oak desk. A wave of compassion for her uncle washed over Meryl as she reached out to console her uncle.

"I'm a soldier, uncle. You can depend of me. I promise, I won't let you down," Meryl smiled softly. "I made it out once before, I can do it again." Her pulse raced like a jackrabbit. This was her opportunity, the proverbial golden ticket, to escape the confines of being a desk jockey. Her chance at redemption. If she pulled this off, her career in the Army would ricochet in to orbit. Shadow Moses would be nothing but a meaningless blip on her record, a temporary setback to an otherwise illustrious and decorated enlistment. "Do we know for sure if this is a new prototype of Metal Gear?"

Roy gazed up at the young woman before him. "No, we don't. Intel was very vague in their reports, mostly due to the amount of secrecy of the ops tempo at this base. You have seen Metal Gear, you know it's capabilities, and since Snake is dead, you are the only person with any prior exposure to Metal Gear. You understand its capabilities, as well as the risk."

Meryl shifted uncomfortably at the mention of Snake's name, using every ounce of self control to contain her emotions. Two months ago Solid Snake had died in a terrorist attack against a Marine Corp tanker. Of course she did not believe the reports that Snake had turned into a rogue terrorist, attacking the government on a whim with no rhyme or reason. She spent hours pouring over reports of the Discovery's sinking, searching for some hint, the tiniest glimpse that Snake was alive. But nothing. Meryl managed to get a hold of the autopsy report on the body recovered from Hudson Bay. The DNA analysis didn't lie. It was an exact match.

Solid Snake was dead.

The morning Campbell broke the news to her, not a single piece of furniture in her apartment was spared from her fury. Never before had Meryl broken out in a fit of rage; in a matter of moments, every dish, chair, and breakable object in her home was lied in pieces on the floor. Blinded my anger, Meryl lacked the cognizance of her actions. The tears didn't fall until Roy departed later on in the afternoon. Stubborn as a bull, Meryl would not let her uncle see her cry. Huddled in a ball on the floor, she cried with such fervidity as she never had before. When Snake left her, she took it like an adult. No tantrums, no tears, picking up with her life, no matter how difficult, and moving on with the best of her ability. Yes, he broke her heart into a thousand tiny shards, abandoning her without even a farewell. But he was at least alive. The green rookie inside clung desperately to the hope that they would meet again. She dedicated her training, the return to the Army, everything in the naive belief that they would meet again. No…she would never see him again. Never bask in the warmth of his embrace, never feel his lips on hers.

During her months at Fort Myer, Meryl accumulated a weeks worth of leave, which she burned through the next week, all of which were spent barricaded in her apartment. More then once her uncle dared a visit, but to no avail. She refused to answer the door, and ignored every attempt to contact her on the phone. On one occasion, Roy had even bribed a fellow member of her platoon to check on her, an clumsy oaf named Johnny Sasaki. The poor man was met with a shower of curses that would make a sailor blush.

Aside from cleaning up the mess she made in her home, Meryl spent that week pouring over every detail of the precious time they spent together. Twin Lakes, Alaska was ruggedly beautiful, from the awe-inspiring pine trees that towered overhead, to the pristine crystalline brooks lining the outskirts of Snake's cabin. Evening was a stargazer's paradise; never before had Meryl witnessed so many stars, or the aurora borealis.

Try as she may, Meryl did not understand why Snake left. Why? Why? **Why?! **

She pondered that question thousands of times. He even professed to love her, promising never to bring her harm. Leaving scarred her far more then any of the torture she survived on Shadow Moses. 'Except…' she trailed mentally to herself. But Meryl had never shared that secret with anyone. In fact, she had gone out on a limb keeping that dark moment in her life completely shrouded in secrecy. Snake had asked her many times, demanding an answer from her, but not once did she sway from her story. She knew that Snake suspected, as did her uncle, but she was bound and determined to detain that secret in the confines of her mind.

In the span of just a couple of weeks, Snake and Meryl's relationship unraveled like ball of yarn. She didn't understand where she went wrong. Snake didn't say so much as a word, but at the drop of a hat he became dark and distant. Meryl was keenly aware that Solid Snake did drink heavily on occasion, especially late at night, however, those times were far and few between. With his sordid past, she hardly blamed him. All of that changed on a whim, and for no explainable reason. Every evening he'd stumble to bed with scotch on his breath. Snake wasn't exactly a nice drunk either. His mood swung like a pendulum, witty one moment and ornery the next. Despite her advances, he refused to touch her; their sex life dwindled away into nothing.

Had she said something? Done some unforgivable act? Nothing made sense until one morning she woke and he was gone. His clothes, guns, and even the pack of Moslems he kept hidden in his sock drawer vanished without a trace.

"This is a copy of your orders," Campbell said, offering her another small manila envelope with the words "TOP SECRET" written across its face. Meryl took them without hesitation, and proceeded to peel away the seal. Taking several moments to translate the heavily padded military bravado, she raised her eyebrows in confusion.

"Undercover?" she questioned. She was to assume the identity of a female security guard, a newly transferred rookie fresh from the Academy. Meryl couldn't help but chuckle at the irony.

"Yes. Your undercover name and backstory are listed below. Memorize them and stick to your story! You are not to engage in any combat, just relay information to the U.S. government. Before you are sent to your location, you will be issued a new codec so you can communicate with us at any time. If there is a new prototype of Metal Gear being developed, you are not to do anything! A team of reinforcements will be deployed to take it out," the Colonel relayed. "You have two weeks to out process and report to the base in Nepal."

Meryl nodded in understanding. 'This is my chance,' she thought to herself. A wave of determination washed over her, as she turned on her heels out of her uncle's office and onwards to a new mission.

_Three weeks later…_

The entirety of Nepal could be summed up in one word. Cold. Wrapped from head to toe in arctic survival gear, Meryl still couldn't resist the subzero shiver that ran down her spine. At the moment she was on her last leg of a twelve hour guard shift. Her partner, a native Columbian, was fast asleep in a metallic folding chair. His name was Miguel Guerrero and volunteered to work in Nepal to support his family back in Bogota. In fact, Meryl quickly surmised that most of the soldiers contracted to work in Annapurna were honest people with a military background, providing for their families back in their native war-torn countries, the complete opposite of the Genome Soldiers in Alaska.

She and Miguel were assigned to patrol the interior entrance to one of the maintenance hangers. Just what occupied the hanger was a complete mystery to her, and everyone else assigned to the post. Scientist in white lab coats and well-dressed men were the only personnel authorized inside the building. Meryl had a sneaking suspicion that what lay inside that hanger was the key to her mission. Despite being spared the bitter winter air outside, her post was heated with only a single space heater that she and Miguel took turns defrosting their appendages. It was Miguel's turn, the heat luring him into a calm sleep.

Meryl was not the only woman at the base, but she was the only only solider assigned to guard duty. The others worked as laboratory assistants, secretaries, and maintenance equipment advisors. More then once, she was grateful for the Desert Eagle she kept strapped to her inner thigh, hidden away beneath layers of bulky clothing. Sure, she had a service firearm, a basic M-4 loaded with frangible .556 ammunition, but her .50 caliber was the secondary assurance she needed to feel safe. Not all of the soldiers were as respectful as Miguel; most hadn't experienced close contact with a female for months on end. Her first partner, a man known only as Sal, made several unwanted advances at her, cornering her alone during in the middle of their duty shift. Currently, Sal was still in the medical ward for two broken ribs and a .50 hollow point bullet lodged in his shoulder. Meryl thanked her lucky stars for the hours of combat training Snake had taught her.

The watch on her wrist read 0530. Only 30 more minutes until day shift would relieve them. Attempting to be as gently as possible, Meryl shook Miguel's shoulder. He woke with a startled expression until realization of the time hit him. "Thank you for letting me catch up on some sleep," Miguel said. His voice was heavy with a Columbian accent, but his English was very well rounded.

"No problem. Didn't want the new shift to see you sleeping on the job," Meryl replied.

"You're more then welcome to sit down, enjoy the heat for a while," he said, pointing to the space heater aimed at the tiny chair.

"No thanks. I'll wait till I get some food in me before I go to sleep," she retorted. Truth be told, she did not trust any man to be near her while her guard was down. Not after Shadow Moses.

The pair paced to and fro, waiting impatiently for the next shift to show up. Upon a closer examination, Miguel was a handsome man. Young, around the same age as her, with bronzed skin and thick black hair. She wasn't sure if it was psychotherapy she received when she was younger, or the pair of icy blue eyes she had grown to love, but Meryl paid Miguel's good looks little heed. Even before Shadow Moses, she had very little interest in the opposite gender, most of them proved to be nothing more then immature and arrogant rookies with no tangible accomplishments or ambition.

The slow creak of the heavy iron door triggered a wave of satisfaction across Meryl's face. Their replacements, Nguyen and Sanderson, slowly trudged their way into the tiny room. She was familiar with both of them, knew very little of their origins or experience. Both wore an aura of doom and gloomy. Meryl preferred to keep the pair at arm's length. After all her experiences, the one lesson she learned was to trust her instincts. "Is there anything we need to know before we leave?" Sanderson inquired.

Shaking her head, Meryl replied. "Nope. It was a normal shift, nothing new to report. Are we good to leave?"

Sanderson nodded solemnly. That was all the word she needed. Strapping her M-4 across her shoulder, Meryl quickly left, with Miguel in tow. First stop was the armory, and second was bed. "Want to come with me to the DFAC?" Miguel asked. Truth be told, she wasn't hungry, and intended to bypass the chow hall entirely in lieu of a warm blanket and the promise of a full eight hour's sleep.

"No thanks, I just want to be left alone. It's been a long night, I don't want to take out my bad mood on you," Meryl said, gently turning him down.

" M'kay. See you tomorrow night at guard mount. Take care, Neeve," Miguel answered, darting off in the direction of the dining facility.

Drew Neeve. That was her assumed identity. It took a couple days to become fully responsive to the name, but now she was more comfortable with her alias then her own name.

From the entrance to the maintenance hangers, there was a single linear corridor connecting them to the rest of the base. Ceiling, floors and walls were all wrought from thick industrial concrete that seemed to amplify the cold air. Painted white, the walls were eerily silent, no matter the time of day. The soft tap of her combat boots on the ground echoed louder then any gunshot. Meryl always felt uneasy in that hallway, placing her hand on her side arm, and peering over her shoulder.

Situated at the end of the corridor was the central armory. At the beginning and end of each shift, Meryl, would check in and out her M-4. Officially she was not permitted to conceal carry her Desert Eagle, but she didn't care. Every woman in the facility was armed, both on and off duty, with a weapon strapped to their thigh or shoved in a hidden holster between their cleavage. Being surrounded by a sea of men, most of whom had been separated from any long term female contact was enough to make any woman, even Meryl, uncomfortable. In many ways, Meryl felt pitied the other women working in Annapurna, all of whom fitted the mold of a young, attractive, seemingly naive female, none of them were cut out for such a hostile environment, even if it was just a research base. Whenever Meryl passed another woman walking alone at night, she would escort them to their destination, glaring menacing looks at her male counterparts. After her encounter in with Sal, Meryl proved that she was no one to be trifled with.

Approaching the armory, Meryl unstrapped her M-4, inserting the business end of her weapon into a clearing barrel. After dropping the loaded magazine, she locked the slide to the rear and cleared the empty chamber. Releasing the slide forward, she placed her weapon on safe, and handed if off to the armory official. "Long night?" he commented on her dreary expression.

"Just like any other. All I want is to go to bed," she vented.

"I see. Well, you're all clear. See you tomorrow night," the official waved her on. Meryl nodded, walking off towards the barracks. In any other military base, the barracks she would have shared a room with another female, but here, she was allotted an entire room to herself. It was one of the few luxuries she had out in this remote snowy wasteland. The female rooms were located close to the armory. Reaching into her uniform, Meryl pulled out the small identification card needed to swipe into the female dormitories.

Several minutes later, Meryl found herself alone in a tiny room with a pair of bunk beds situated in the northern most corner. She had claimed the top bunk as her sleeping space, and the bottom bunk as a makeshift storage spot for her uniforms. In the opposite corner was a small oak desk, most likely for stationary supplies or other trinkets her fellow soldiers brought from home. Thankfully her room was equipped with central heat, and Meryl quickly found herself boiling hot inside all her thick insulated gear. First she stripped off her parka, then her service top, and finally the three layers of cold-weather survival thermals, until she was in nothing but a black sports bra and a tight pair of spandex shorts. She also removed her thigh holster that held her Desert Eagle, placing her gun on the bottom bunk. Around her neck was a pair of dog tags, dangling in the valley between her breasts. Odd that she should wear a pair of dog tags with a false name on them, but the cold metallic against her neck was a familiar sensation and she choose to keep them on.

Inside her room was the only place for absolute privacy, and that was where Meryl would report via Codec to her superiors, who were taking up residence in a remote village about twenty kilometers to the west of the base. Tapping on the base of her ear, she waited to hear the familiar tone of the outgoing call signal.

"This is Odyssey," chimed a thick burly male voice. It was her mission commander and she knew him only as his call sign, Odyssey. The signal from Annapurna to the village was terrible, and instead of a clear visual on her commander, Meryl saw only static.

"Sir, just reporting before I call it a day. So far, I haven't been able to find any details on what's being built on that hanger. If it is Metal Gear, then I would assume that's where it would be hidden," Meryl relayed.

"Are there any indications that this is a new Metal Gear?"

"Yes, sir. The word going around the soldiers supports the theory. A 'giant mechanical weapon that walks upright' to be exact," she quoted. Never having paid much attention to gossip while she as assigned to Alaska, Meryl found herself listening intently to every conversation going on around her. Even the biggest falsehood originated from the truth.

"Alright soldier. We'll expect another report in 24 hours," the Codec clicked off, and her small room was filled with a pregnant silence.

Meryl approached the oak desk and reached into one of the drawers, pulling out a small MRE that she smuggled from the chow hall. Instead of desk for its indented purpose, she had been sneaking extra meals out of the kitchen to eat in her room on those days when she sought solitude from the rowdy crowd in the dining facility. She examined the flavor of her makeshift meal. Beef stew. Not her favorite, but at least it wasn't the breakfast omelette. Tearing open the bag, she methodically ate her meal in silence. Once finished, she discarded the remaining trash in a tiny garbage receptacle at the end of her bed.

With a long, drawn out yawn, Meryl climbed the railing to the top bunk and slipped beneath the thick down covers. Pulling them up to her chin, she sighed heavily, letting her eyes slowly close. Although she was physically exhausted from the long shift, Meryl suffered from frequent insomnia. Sitting up, she rummaged under her pillow for a few seconds before pulling out what she was looking for. In her hands was a photograph. In the picture was herself, smiling widely from ear to hear, with Snake's arm wrapped firmly around her waist, drawing her in close.

Gazing deeply at the picture, Meryl remembered the day that photo had been taken. Snake had woken her up particularly early that day, embarking out on a mushing trip with his team of huskies. The day long trip was a memorable experience. She could still feel the crisp spring Alaskan air flush her cheeks pink as the pair darted in and out of an endless sea of spruce and pine trees. It had snowed lightly the night before, and the ground was covered by a light white film that sparkled in direct sunlight. After several hours of hard riding, Snake arrived at his destination, a small thicket in the forest, seemingly no different then anywhere else. She had asked why they were there, to which Snake replied, just wait. The sun set shortly after their arrival, and before long Snake told her to look up. The _aurora borealis _filled the sky with shades of green, yellow and pink dancing in ripples across the evening stars. Meryl remembered grinning like a giddy school girl, hardly believing her eyes. So focused on the evening display, she didn't notice Snake sneak up behind her and whisper in her ear, "I love you."

Meryl smiled, curling up in her sheets. That had been the happiest day of her life. What happened to those days? Why did they have to change?

With happy thoughts swirling in her mind, Meryl drifted off into a dreamless slumber.

IXIXIX

**I hope you wonder readers enjoyed this chapter. Thank you for reading and as always, please review. **


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